


Floor 6

by HayaChu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dancing, Darco sort of not really though, Frottage, M/M, Porn With Plot, Spanking, Stripping, cosplayer!Marco, its just a stage name, oh and booty shorts, or I tried atleast, or should I say boodty shorts, there's also a bit of fluff, very very slight bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2326100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HayaChu/pseuds/HayaChu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I fight the urge to run and hide as the panic rises within me, the look that Marco’s giving me as he saunters onto the stage makes me shiver and I feel like he just might, I don’t know, eat me or something. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at once.</p><p>And then he’s right in front of me. I jump slightly in surprise as he slings an arm over my shoulder before he leans in and whispers into my ear. “Hey there, stranger” I ignore the fact that a soft whine escapes me as his warm breath caresses the side of my face. “Wanna take my pants off?”"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Floor 6

It all started with a train ride.

 

What is “It”, you ask? Well, I like to think of “It” as the thing that changed my life forever. I didn’t know it at the time, because really all it happened to be was a stupidly long train ride with a couple of friends, or so it seemed. The thing that made this particular train ride so special? Well, it’s where I met Marco Bodt for the first time.

 

Of course, I didn’t know that this would be the start of my new life at the time, but now I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? So, let’s start at the beginning.

 

I, Jean Kirschtein, had been dragged away from school for the weekend to go to some stupid convention with my two best friends, Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover. And not just any convention.

 

It was Maria’s BL Con.

 

Boys Love Con.

 

A yaoi convention.

 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the genre. I’m gay myself, but I’ve never found myself interested yaoi, or even manga or anime of any sort. It’s just never been my thing. So why am I going to BL Con?

 

Because Reiner _fucking_ begged me to!

 

I don’t even know why he did, but I guess he _really_ wanted me to come or something. He swore that I would enjoy myself and all that jazz… I don’t really believe him. But he’s my friend, and I’ll humor him. Apparently Reiner and Berthold have gone to this convention together for the past three years, so at least they enjoy it. If anything, it’s a weekend away from studying for the most part. I only have one paper to finish writing, and I plan to get that done as soon as possible so that I can spend the weekend relaxing and doing… I don’t fucking know. Whatever you do at these sorts of things?

 

But, back to the train ride.

 

It’s a three hour train ride from our small college town of Trost to the big city of Maria. Not _too_ long, but long enough that I’ve grown tired of trying to avoid watching Reiner try to secretly grope his boyfriend. I spent a good hour and a half writing my paper, but after a while the words started to blur together and the ability to concentrate became non-existent. The next thirty minutes was spent trying to ignore the kissy sounds that the couple sitting across from me was making.

 

It wasn’t working out in my favor. I let them know that I was going to stretch my legs for a bit before I hightailed it out of my seat and make my way to the next cabin.

 

That’s the good thing about trains, you’re not restricted to sitting in your seat for the entirety of the trip like in cars or busses. I figured I would just take a walk through the cabins before heading back, but I found myself in a lounge of some sort. It hadn’t been marked private, so I assumed it was okay for me to be there. There was a vendor where you could buy drinks and small, over-priced café sandwiches, and a few lounge chairs and couches scattered about. The furniture was well-worn with age, but most of the seats were occupied with people socializing, eating, or minding their own business.

 

I found myself buying a sandwich and a drink if only to provide myself with a reason to not return to my seat. Scanning over the few open seats I ended up grabbing the spot on a couch next to someone who was hunched over a notebook, a text book and papers spread before them on a table that was bolted to the floor.

 

I sat quietly, hoping not to disrupt the boy in his studies, but his attention landed on me anyways. I found myself staring at tanned skin smattered in freckles and beautiful deep brown eyes. The boy was stunning, to say the least. He shot me a kind smile before turning back to his work, but I couldn’t turn my gaze away from him. I realized I was staring, but damn! Even under his rumpled, baggy, comfortable-looking clothing, I could tell he was absolutely gorgeous.

 

I leaned back into the couch, forcing my gaze to leave the boy before me as I unwrapped my sandwich, the only sound between us being the rustling of paper, the scratch of his pencil as he worked, and my quite chewing. It was awkward, but not terribly so, just about as awkward as sitting next to a stranger on the bus I guess.

 

I reached for my drink which I had placed on the table, but my gaze landed on the textbook splayed open before us.

 

“Jesus” I breathed out, my eyes roving over the exposed pages. It was all numbers, letters, strange symbols, and formulas, none of which I recognized in slightest. I was frozen, half reaching out for my drink, eye’s glued to the book before me. I heard the boy sitting beside me chuckle at me reaction, his gaze parting from his work to once again land on me.

 

“Yeah,” he snickered, “physics is really kicking my butt.”

 

Beautiful and smart. I gulped before finally picking up my drink and taking a sip to wet my suddenly dry pallet. “Well, you’re probably doing much better than I ever could” I finally respond when I find my voice again, “just looking at all that shit is hurting my eyes.”

 

I earned myself another chuckle, calming my nerves slightly. I found that this guy was really easy to get comfortable around, surprisingly. “Marco” a tan, freckled hand was held out towards me.

 

“Jean,” I clasped my hand with his in a firm shake before reluctantly letting go. I didn’t want to come off as weird or as a creep.

 

“Nice to meet you,” and there was that amazing smile again.

 

Marco sighed as his attention drifted back to the textbook, frowning at it. He stuffed his papers into the book before closing it and leaning back into the couch, his gaze lazily landing on me once again.

 

“So, you a student at Trost U?” I asked, having nothing better to say but not wanting the conversation to end yet.

 

“Um, not exactly” he answers, “I’m actually a student at the Academy, but I do take some of the open-enrollment night classes at Trost U for fun.”

 

A few things stood out from his sentence in particular.

 

One, Marco studies at The Trost Academy, a well-known school of dance. Not only is the school expensive, you have to be an exceptional dancer to just get in. It’s impressive, to say the least.

 

Second, Marco takes Trost U’s open-enrollment classes. Trost U is one of the few Universities that offer classes for non-students. Usually you would have to be accepted into Trost U like most other Universities in order to take classes there, but the open-enrollment classes are open to anyone. They’re usually at night to accommodate for the working-folk who generally take the classes.

 

Third, Marco is taking Physics for fun. What the fuck?

 

I don’t even know what to say, I am literally stunned into silence. Marco is the one who speaks first. “So, are you studying at Trost U?”

 

I nod, still a bit stupefied by the whole thing, but I manage to find my words. “Yeah, I’m studying French. I’m hoping to become a teacher.”

 

“Yeah? That’s cool! The only language I know is English. I barely passes Spanish in high-school, and I’ve forgotten it all by now” Marco says, a light blush staining his cheeks as he scratches at his nose self-consciously.

 

“But, really?” He quirks a brow at me in curiosity, not sure what I’m asking. “You’re studying _Physics_ for _fun?_ ”

 

He shrugs and laughs, and I find myself laughing right along with him. We fall into easy conversation and before I know it we are pulling in close to the Maria Station. We part ways, reluctantly on my side. I don’t have the nerve to ask him for his contact information before retreating back to my cabin, taking my seat across from Bertholdt and Reiner. They barely even noticed that I was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time we reach the hotel, conveniently in the convention block luckily for us, it’s late and Marco’s completely escaped my mind. All I want to do is sleep. We check in and drag ourselves up to our room. I get a bed to myself (thank God!) while Reiner and Bertholdt share one.

 

As I change and get ready to pass out Reiner talks me through tomorrow. “Registration opens tomorrow at nine, but we just have to pick up out badges so it shouldn’t take so long” he says as he’s sprawled out over his bed, Bertl peeks out of the bathroom, his mouth foamy with toothpaste. I curl into my pillow as he continues to speak. “We’ll get our guides tomorrow which will tell us what panels and events are happening when.”

 

Simple enough.

 

“We have to go the Opening Ceremony” he says, but I roll my eyes.

 

“I have to finish my paper before I do anything tomorrow. I’ll pick up my badge at nine with you guys but then I’m coming back up here and cranking through my work.” Reiner’s pinning me with a glare but I match him with my own. “I’m almost done, it won’t take too long.”

 

This seems to appease him, at least slightly.

 

I end up missing the Opening Ceremonies the following day, but I do manage to finish my paper by six in the evening. Shit. That took a _lot_ longer than I expected! Reiner’s going to kill me, and I’ve wasted the entire day in the hotel room… Oh well, I doubt I missed much.

 

Just then Reiner and Bertl burst into the room. “Jean!” the blond bellows as he enters, plopping gracelessly onto his bed. Bertl follows him in, placing some bags that they hadn’t had this morning on the floor by their bed before sitting much more softly onto the bed. They must have gone shopping in the Exhibition Hall and Artist Alley that I’d read about when I took a short break from writing to skim through the event booklet I had been given. “Are you fucking done yet!? ‘Cause I’m gonna fucking drag you to the next event even if you’re not!”

 

I run my hand through my hair, mussing it up, and sigh. “I actually just finished, so I’m free for the rest of the weekend.”

 

Both Bertl and Reiner perk up at this.

 

“Fucking finally!” Reiner groans as he stretches his back.

 

Bertholdt smiles at me in what I think is meant to be a reassuring manner, “I think you’ll enjoy this next event.”

 

“No, he’s gonna fucking love it!”

 

I frown, “What is it?”

 

“Bingo” Bertl answers simply. My frown increases. Bingo? Isn’t that for grannies and shit? I’m not going to play bingo!

 

“Not just bingo!” Reiner barks. “Bishounen Bingo!”

 

I don’t know what the difference is, but they refuse to elaborate when I ask. What-the-fuck-ever. Around seven thirty we head down to the main hall of the convention where we end up waiting in line for about twenty more minutes before they start letting us into the hall. I still haven’t gotten an explanation, and it’s irking me something fierce.

 

Volunteers usher us into the hall, checking our badges and leading us to open seats. Reiner and Bertl seem ecstatic about the seats that we get, but again, I have no clue why. They won’t fucking tell me anything.

 

My mood takes a swift turn, however, when a familiar face saunters right by me. Familiar, but strikingly different. However, I recognize that tanned freckled skin immediately. But Marco’s not wearing his baggy clothes from the previous day’s train ride, oh no.

 

My gaze roves his body from head to toe.

 

He has an eye-patch covering his right eye, a saucy smirk playing at his beautiful lips. A tight, cropped, leather jacket clings to his shoulders over a deep red button down. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, his tanned collarbones peeking from underneath. The belt adorning his hips is obviously purely decoration as his tight leather pants are practically a second skin. The leather flogger secured to his belt sways with every step he takes as he walks down the aisle before him. And his boots. Fuck… those boots! Laced knee-highs with a bit of a heel, and I know that if the floor wasn’t carpeted they would _click_ with every step Marco takes.

 

Apparently he’s spotted me as well, and for a second he seems incredibly surprised, his one visible eye wide… and wait, its red? He must be wearing colored contacts.

 

His surprise filters away rather quickly and is replaced with one of the cockiest smirks I’ve ever seen.

 

He was stunning before in his grubby clothing, but now he just looks phenomenal. I find myself shrinking into my seat under his intense gaze, and this action has seemed to have garnered the attention of both Reiner and Bertholdt. My gaze flickers to them and I find Reiner smirking while Bertl is smiling at me shyly.

 

“Looks like Jean’s found a bishi that he _really_ likes,” I feel my cheeks flushing at Reiner’s words and sink further into my seat. I look back to Marco and he sends me what I _believe_ is a wink, but I can’t really tell with the eye-patch that he’s wearing, before turning around to continue patrolling the aisles of the hall.

 

“B-bishi?” I finally stutter.

 

“Bishounen, or pretty boy” Bertholdt answers. The words _Bishounen Bingo_ ring in my head as he continues to talk. “There are a few of them that work the convention, there’s another pair of them” he points out another tan-skinned boy that’s walking down the aisle way holding a leash that is connected to a collar around a shorter, pale, blue eyed blond. I gulp, they’re both stunningly beautiful and dressed in costume as well. The blond seems to be some sort of elf while the emerald-eyed brunette is dressed in a suit and tie.

 

I’d seen some cosplayers while waiting in line and every so often when I peeked out of the window of our hotel room, but no one quite as attractive or well-dressed as these “Bishies”.

 

“They’re also one of the main forms of entertainment throughout the convention” Reiner butts in, “They work most of the main events and even some of the smaller ones.”

 

I nod as if I understand, but really I don’t. Before anything else can be said on the matter, however, the MC walks onto the stage, speaking into his mic and his words riling up the audience. His words barely register until he gets to explaining the game and the rules.

 

 _Two bingo cards for a dollar, or five for two dollars._ Okay, simple enough.

 

 _Shout ‘BINGO!’ when you have Bingo._ As if that wasn’t obvious.

 

“And here comes the fun part!” the MC continues on. “After verifying that you indeed have gotten ‘Bingo’, you’ll come up on stage and pick a random number out of the bag” He holds a plastic bag over his head, shaking it slightly. “The number you pull will correspond to a prize! But that’s not all” _That’s not all?_ “Next you’ll pull a piece of paper out of _this_ bag” He holds another bag over his head, “Each strip of paper in this bag has a name written on it, a name of one of our lovely Bishounen!”

 

Said Bishounen are standing just off stage, but still visible to most of the audience. “The Bishounen that you pull will come up on stage and you will have the choice of either having them remove an article of clothing, having another Bishounen remove an article of clothing from them, or you, yes _you_ , could remove an article of clothing from them!”

 

 _Oh dear lord_.

 

The entire room erupts into peals of joy, and even Bertl is cheering. So is Reiner, but that’s not much of a surprise honestly.

 

“So, with that… Let the game begin!” More cheering, “Boys, don’t leave our audience waiting! Go give them those cards that they’re so willing to buy!”

 

And with that, the Bishounen descend upon the crowd, taking money and passing out cards. Before I know it I’m handing two singles to one of the Bishounen who’s coming around, the one in the suit, and he hands me the corresponding number of cards in return.

 

“You’re going to enjoy yourself” Reiner reassures, and I realize that yeah, I probably am.

 

The rounds pass by quickly, almost all of them having multiple winners as you can play as many cards in a round as you want. With each passing round more and more of the many Bishounen, fifteen or so it seems like, lose at least one article of clothing. However, there are still a few who have yet to been called, and Marco is one of them. I honestly don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.

 

“O Sixty-nine!” the MC calls and the crowd erupts into cheers, I look up from my card in confusion. “For those of you who are Bishounen Bingo virgins, when we call O Sixty-nine it means _all_ of our Bishounen must remove an article of clothing!” More cheering and before I know it the Bishounen are lined up, taking a catwalk down the stage and sensually removing an article of clothing.

 

Marco walks up the stage, his hips swaying with every step. He slips the leather jacket from his shoulders slowly, turning full circle as he does so. With each twist of his body the jacket slides lower on his arms until it’s only covering his fingers, at which point he completely removes the jacket and slings it over his shoulder before sauntering off stage.

 

I seriously fucking hope I’m not drooling, because daaaaaammmmnn!

 

I can see Reiner smirking at me out of my peripheral vision.

 

The rest of the round passes quickly, but this time Marco’s name is pulled from the bag. Or, well _Darco_ is the name that’s pulled from the bag, but since Marco is the one that walks onto the stage I assume that’s just his stage name.

 

He briefly talks to the girl who pulled his name before turning and pointing towards another Bishounen before making a ‘come hither’ motion with his finger.

 

“Darco will be getting some help from another one of our lovely Bishounen, it seems” the MC speaks into his microphone as another one of the bishies walk onto the stage, this one a tall blond with thick sideburns dressed as a sailor. Or _was_ dressed as a sailor, he’s lost a few layers of clothing since this whole game began.

 

The blond stands behind freckled brunette, his hands running down Marco’s chest before settling on his hips. Marco lifts his arms, tangling his fingers in the hair on the back of the sailor’s head. I feel the disgusting curl of jealously flicker from within me as I watch the blond litter Marco’s neck with light kisses as he pulls the hem of his red button-down from where it had been tucked into his leather pants. He slowly runs his hands back up Marco’s body before he leisurely begins to pop open each of Marco’s buttons.

 

I feel my body temperature rise with each bit of tanned skin that is gradually exposed, but I gulp audibly as I spy what’s underneath the fitted button-down. A fishnet singlet.

 

_Jesus… Fucking Freckled Jesus._

I _know_ I must be drooling by this point, oh my God.

 

Marco sensually slips the button down from his shoulders, it slowly slips down his arms before he flings it over his shoulder much like he had done with his jacket previously. He gives the girl who had won a friendly one-armed hug that leaves the girl as red as I feel before he sashays off the stage.

 

The other winner of this round pulls from the bag next, handing the MC the strip of paper that she draws. “Oooh~” he drawls into the mic. “Darco, again!” His gaze lands on Marco who’s just placed his shirt on the back of his chair. “Are you up for another round, baby?”

 

From where I sit I can see Marco’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug before he makes his way back up the stage. The girl and Marco chat for a second and then he’s walking back across the stage and grabbing a chair before placing it center stage and settling into the seat. The girl ends up on the floor in front of him, her hands running down his thighs before landing on his boots. As she works on the laces on one boot Marco raises his other leg in a show of flexibility. He raises it straight up, his hand resting lightly on the back of his thigh. I don’t even know how he can move like that in such tight pants, but he manages.

 

Eventually, after a sensual display, both boots are removed, and I find myself infuriatingly jealous once more. I try to beat down the feeling as the Bishounen start making their rounds, passing out more bingo cards. I realize I’m in need of a few more, so I hold two singles up in order to catch the attention of whichever Bishounen is attending to our section.

 

“Hey there, stranger” the familiar voice cuts though my thoughts, my attention snapping to the Bishounen standing before me. It’s Marco, and he’s smiling at me devilishly. However, I have trouble keeping my gaze fixed on his face because his crotch is pretty much at eye level and he’s fingering the hem of his pants, pulling the edge away from his tanned skin. “You gonna pay me or what?” again, my gaze travel back up to freckled face, his brow is quirked in question.

 

_Oh. My. God._

My vision snaps rapidly between his crotch and his face a few times, my pulse skyrocketing. Is he asking what I think he is? As if to affirm my question he fingers the hem of his pants again. I gulp, my fingers shaking as I reach out. My fingers slide against his smooth, soft skin as I tuck the two singles into the hem of his pants, my breath coming out in quiet, nervous huffs.

 

“Let’s see” Marco hums, “That’s five cards then, right?” He licks his thumb before flicking through his pile of cards, pulling out a singular card.

 

_But I ordered five?_

And then he runs the card down his chest, abdominals, and then over his crotch before holding the card out for me to take.

 

_Oh fuck._

 

I reach out with shaky hands once again, taking the card from him. “For good luck” he says, and then repeats the motion with the four other cards he owes me.

 

I think I might faint.

 

“See you later, Jean” Marco purrs before turning to attend to another customer. Reiner is looking at me in complete surprise and I can’t stop shaking. I’m so thankful that the blond has the sense to not say anything, because honestly I think I’m about to spontaneously combust.

 

I do have the wits about me to take note that Marco does not treat the other audience members in the same manner that he treated me. No, instead he simply takes their money and gives them cards in exchange, his saucy smirk never leaves his lips but there are not accompanying sexually charged motions. That makes me inexplicably happy.

 

The round begins and start I punching holes into my cards, really only half paying attention.

 

_B 16_

_N 32_

_G 84_

_I 20_

_O 7_

Wait… _bingo?_ BINGO! “B-bingo?” my voice barely squeaks. Reiner practically pounces on me, forcing my arms into the air.

 

“You have to say it louder you twat! BINGO FOR FUCKS SAKE!” Reiner bellows.

 

 

One of the Bishounen is by my side in a second, it’s the small blond that’s dressed as and elf. He’s lost his shoes but not much else. I hand him my card and he reads off the letters and numbers on my card into a mic. It’s verified that I do indeed have bingo. I’m not the only one, however.

 

I’m so shocked that it takes Reiner practically pushing me out of my seat to get me going, walking up to the stage. I’m so slow that I’m the last of the three winners in this round to make it to the stage.

 

Everything moves before me in a blur, and before I know it it’s my turn to pull a name from the bag. I’ve already pulled a number, and won some dvds or something. I don’t even know.

 

My hands are damp due to nervous sweat as I reach into the bag. I wrap my hand around the very first scrap of paper that my fingers brush against, yanking it out with more force than necessary. I hand it to the MC, unconsciously holding my breath in anticipation.

 

He reads the name on the card, “Oh Darco, would you get your booty up here, please?”

 

Of-fucking-course.

 

I fight the urge to run and hide as the panic rises within me, the look that Marco’s giving me as he saunters onto the stage makes me shiver and I feel like he just might, I don’t know, eat me or something. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at once.

 

And then he’s right in front of me. I jump slightly in surprise as he slings an arm over my shoulder before he leans in and whispers into my ear. “Hey there, stranger” I ignore the fact that a soft whine escapes me as his warm breath caresses the side of my face. “Wanna take my pants off?”

 

My brain short-circuits, because oh my god! YES! Yes, I want to take your pants off! And I want you in my bed! And I want you to rumple and dirty up my sheets! And I want to make you scream my name in the most pleasurable way!

 

I want to fuck you, Marco, or Darco, or whoever the fuck you are! So yes, I want to fucking take your pants off!

 

But all that comes out of my mouth is a strangled “Ughr… hng?” I have apparently lost the ability to form actual words. Fuck my life!

 

But Marco drags me to the middle of the stage anyways. He stands in front of me, his back pressed against my chest. This close, I realize that Marco’s actually a little bit taller than I am, but the thought is quickly pushed from my mind when his hands find mine, bringing them up to his chest. He slowly pulls my hands down his body, leading them to his hips. My hands rest there even after he lets go to twine his fingers behind my neck.

 

A quick moment passes before Marco’s whispering to me again, “Well, get to it, stranger.”

 

I can’t believe this is happening, but it is. Ever so slowly my hands move to his belt buckle, my fingers shaky as I unfasten it. One of Marco’s hands comes from behind my head and his hips start swaying slightly to the heavy beat of the music playing in the background. I look over his shoulder, my eyes glued to his hand as is trails leisurely down his chest, waist, and then hip, before it settles on the leather flogger dangling from his belt. He unfastens it deftly, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy _thunk._

 

I’m free to pull the belt from the loops of his pants now, and so I do. I drop the belt to the floor, and I can’t help myself so I splay my fingers across Marco’s abs before trailing them down to the button of his pants. As I pop the catch open and gradually pull down the zipper Marco leans his head back against my shoulder, humming into my ear. My hips start swaying along with his of their own accord.

 

I am completely lost in the moment.

 

Once the zipper has fallen completely I slip my hands beneath the leather covering his hips, slowly pushing the material down.

 

I know the audience is clapping, and whooping, and hollering, just like they have for every other Bishi that’s lost an article of clothing, but I can’t hear any of it. It’s just Marco and I, and we’re in our own little world for the moment.

 

Marco’s pants fall to just below his ass, which is clad in a tight black pair of booty shorts. I can’t stop the soft moan that escapes me at the sight, and from my peripheral vision I catch Marco’s lips quirk up into a smug smirk. Marco has the body of a God and he fucking knows it.

 

Before I can push the tight leather material that is covering Marco’s legs down any furthers, his hands catch my own. He’s pulling on my arms, shifting out positions on the stage until I’m standing in front of him, our sides facing the audience rather than facing them directly. His lightly freckled hands find their way to my shoulders, applying a bit of pressure.

 

 _Oh._ I know what he wants. I slowly sink to my knees, finding myself at eye level with his crotch once more. Honestly, I don’t mind one bit. My hands rise to Marco’s hips once again, but instead of going directly back to peeling the tight garment from his body they continue to trail higher, lightly ghosting up his sides. I’m the only one close enough to hear Marco’s breathe hitch and see the goose bumps that erupt from his skin where ever I touch. My hands curl around to splay across his back before trailing them back down, down, down, before settling on his incredibly firm ass.

 

I give the round mounds of flesh a good squeeze, and am rewarded handsomely. “Ah!” the soft moan the escapes Marco’s parted lips is only something that only I can hear, and his grip around my shoulders tightens. My gaze meets his, the bright red of his singular visible eye no longer a great contrast to his skin which has gained a slight flush. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips and I unconsciously copy the movement.

 

My gaze does not roam from Marco’s as my hands continue their trail down his legs, snagging in the tight leather as they continue to push the material down to expose more of his tanned thighs. My eyes do not leave Marco’s even after my hands have ghosted past his thighs, knees, and calves.

 

One of his hands moves from its place perched upon my shoulder, fingers trailing softly against my neck before cupping my cheek. Marco’s hand rests there for a quick moment, his lips upturning into the slightly sinister and incredibly sexy smirk from before. His hand finally makes its way into my hair, giving the lighter toned locks a slight ruffle before pulling softly at the stands, signaling for me to stand up. I obey unquestioningly, finding myself a little unsteady on my legs but sturdy enough to stand.

 

Marco’s hands are on my shoulders again and he’s applying a light amount of pressure, but it’s different from before. This time he’s directing me to take a step back, so I do so, albeit reluctantly. Marco takes a step back as well, stepping out of his pants which have pooled at his ankles. He runs a finger down my neck, then my chest, and he starts to bend at the waist. He continue to lower himself to the ground slowly, his finger trailing down my body until it reaches my belt buckle, at which point he pulls away, reaching for the garment on the floor instead.

 

I don’t let the sigh of disappointment building within me to escape.

 

The roar of the audience snaps me back to reality, but my eyes never leave the freckled form before me. Marco’s standing straight up again, his gaze locked on my own. He blinks, _or maybe winks_ , before blowing me a kiss.

 

It takes everything I have to not collapse right there on the stage. Then, Marco’s turning around and heading back to his seat, leather pants slung casually over his shoulder as his hips sway with every step, and that’s my cue to bound off the stage as well. I dutifully ignore Bertholdt and Reiner’s dumbfounded stares and I return to my seat.

 

My heart is still hammering in my chest as the next round starts. I can’t believe I did that!

 

Before I even know it, Bingo's over, and the Bishounen are filing out of the room as the MC gives his parting remarks. I hate to see Marco leave, but fuck, I love to watch him go.

 

I check the time on my phone, it’s a bit after Eleven at night and I’m fucking bushed. It’s time for bed, for me at least. Reiner and Bertholdt have other ideas, apparently there’s another event going on. A sing-along or something. Fuck that, I’m going to bed and there’s nothing they can do or say to stop me.

 

“Darco might be there.”

 

Fuck. You. Reiner.

 

So we end up going to the fucking sing along, and let me tell you… I’m so fucking happy that those two doofuses dragged me out.

 

We ended up sitting fairly close to the front of the room where the sing along was to be held, a few of the Bishounen were setting up mics and tuning instruments. Marco was nowhere in sight, but the Bishounen that were there were fully dressed once again.

 

I must have zoned out again, because the next thing I know one of the Bishounen is talking into a mic and introducing their little band, _Titan-ical Parody_ _._ Ok, interesting name I guess.

 

I’m not sure what to think when they start up. Strumming their acoustic guitars and one of them is even playing a freaking banjo. But then they start to sing, and I can’t help but chortle because they’re actually pretty entertaining. They have the lyrics projected onto a screen by the stage and Bertholdt and Reiner are singing along, as is most of the crowd.

 

At some point even I start singing along to their rather raunchy remixes without even realizing it. Well, trying to sing, that is. It’s actually rather hard to sing when you’re laughing your ass off. I really am starting to understand why Bertl and Reiner come back here year after year.

 

Before they start up the next song the main singer, JaegerBomb (if I’m remembering correctly), clears his throat, his gaze landing on someone in the back of the room. “This next one’s for my friend, Darco” my neck nearly snaps due to how fast I turn my head to look towards the rear of the hall, and there he is. Marco’s standing in the back of the room, dressed once again, looking a bit surprised over the other Bishounen’s words. “I know this one’s your favorite… And, everyone else better fucking sing, because I fucking _know_ you shitheads know the lyrics to this one.”

 

They start up strumming a steady beat, my attention singled out on Marco. His expression morphs from one of surprise to one of complete joy. “Oh my God! This is my song!” He practically squeals as he jumps and bounds up to the stage, my gaze following his every move.

 

_“I got this feeling at like three a.m. while watching Netflix_

_I drew some porny fan art and I wrote some smutty fanfic_

_Can’t help it I just think that they would make such a good pair_

_In cannon they have never met –_

_I don’t care, I ship it! I don’t care!”_

I recognize the song as a parody of I Don’t Care. Everyone is cheering, but I don’t really get it. I feel out of the loop, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the way Marco dances around on stage as he sings along to the song with great enthusiasm. His body moves fluidly to the beat of the music and I find myself completely transfixed. Everything around me is drowned out, my attention solely focused on the freckled boy before me.

 

When our eyes meet my heart stutters in my chest and the breath is knocked from my body. Marco’s expression immediately morphs into something sly and I notice his hands begin to run down his body, tugging at the tight material of his clothing. My breath hitches.

 

He’s teasing me.

 

That bitch!

 

When the song ends and Marco jumps from the stage and heads in my direction my frustration and anger quickly wash away. The band starts off on another song, the crowd singing along, but the only thing my attention is focused on is the approaching body. He kneels on the ground before me so as to not obstruct the view of the other audience members, his hands landing on my knees.

 

“Hey there, stranger” I know Reiner and Bertholdt are staring at me, but at this moment I really don’t give a flying fuck because Marco is practically between my legs. “You comin’ to the auction tomorrow?”

 

Auction? What auction? “Ughnnm… ?” Oh yes, very eloquent. Marco knows he’s got me completely flustered if the smirk playing at his lips is anything to go by.

 

“Yes” Reiner answers for me. Thanks buddy, way to go making me feel even _more_ lame.

 

“Oh, good!” One of Marco’s fingers leisurely traces a circle on my thigh as he leans forward slightly, “I hope you enjoy the show” He stands, his body leaning over mine still. “I’ll keep an eye out for you” his tanned, freckled hand runs over my thigh one more time before Marco turns and exits the room, leaving me breathless and at a loss for words.

 

It takes me a minute to realize that the set is over and that most of the crowd has started to pile out of the room. “Hey there, stranger” Reiner purrs, his brows wiggling in an incredibly annoying manner.

 

“Fuck you!” Oh, there you are voice. Where were you when I needed you?

 

Reiner guffaws loudly as we make our way out of the room, at least Bertl has the decency to chuckle softly behind his hand. My mood suddenly plummets.

 

“Jean,” Bertholdt finally breaks the silence when we enter the elevator together, I press the button for our floor. He seems a bit nervous, but that could just be because he’s Bertholdt and he always looks a little nervous. “Ah, do you, um, know Darco?”

 

“Yeah, he acted differently towards you even before that whole performance you two put on up stage. Oh! Congrats, by the way, I think I forgot to say that before” I glare at Reiner, his playful attitude is currently not appreciated… but I can’t stay mad at the big blond doof. I sigh, and run a hand through my hair before answering.

 

“Not really,” I start. “I met him on the train ride while I was walking around. We ended up talking for a bit, but… He was so different on the train. It’s like there’s another personality inhabiting that body…”

 

The elevator pings when we reach our floor, the doors sliding open. We exit and head towards our room. “Well, that’s actually probably how it is” Bertholdt says with a shrug, and it catches me by surprise. “Darco is a persona, it’s as much a part of his costume as his clothes are… or well, that’s how it sounds from what you’ve said. I’m not saying he has multiple personalities or anything, it’s just… a performance.” A pause, and Bertholdt is back to his usual sweaty nervous self, “but, I could be wrong! I’m just assuming…”

 

No, what Bertholdt is saying actually makes a lot of sense, I realize. We reach out hotel room and once inside I immediately flop onto the bed, exhausted. My eyes slide shut but Reiner’s voice prevents me from falling to sleep. I guess that’s a good thing, I shouldn’t fall asleep in my clothes anyways. I haven’t even taken my shoes off for fucks sake!

 

“So, you like him, Jean?”

 

I groan into one of my pillows, one eye popping open to glare at Reiner in as much of an intimidating manner as I can muster. He doesn’t even flinch. “… Yeah, I guess. I mean he’s beautiful, flexible, smart, and hell, you’ve seen his body! What’s not to like about Marco?”

 

“Marco?” the blondes’ voice perks with curiosity. “Is that his name?” I nod into my pillow, trying to hide my flushing cheeks. “Oh, I get it! Like, dark Marco!” I quirk a brow at him, silently asking him to explain. “Well, you described him as a sweet, polite, normal kid. It kind of seems like Darco is the opposite. Dark, alluring, a bit slutty, and has a thing for punishment if that flogger is anything to go by…”

 

 _Jesus._ But, wait… “Well, he didn’t seem dark or any of those other things when he was bouncing around on the stage singing, earlier.”

 

“A break from character, probably” Bertholdt mumbles around his toothbrush. I really wish he would stop doing that. “Even the best cosplayers break character once in a while,” he shrugs, “That was probably the _real_ Marco that we saw.”

 

Okay, I guess that explains that…

 

But, there’s still one thing plaguing my mind… “What’s the auction?”

 

The eerie smile that takes over Reiner’s expression sends a chill down my back, I am utterly disturbed. “You’ll find out tomorrow!”

 

I leave the conversation at that and begin to get ready for bed, Reiner’s sudden change sending me for a loop. The second I curl up under the covers I’m out like a light.

 

The next day Reiner and Bertholdt drag me around through the Exhibition Hall, Artist Alley, and to a few panels. I end up purchasing a couple of interesting looking books ( _real_ books, not manga. You know, with typed words and paragraphs and all that good shit) in the Hall, but I’m completely uninterested in pretty much everything else that the boyfriends subject me to.

 

In a panel about _I don’t give a shit_  where the presenter is talking about _I really don’t fucking care,_ I find myself flipping through the convention program in an attempt to find _something_ interesting. As I’m skimming the schedule something catches my eye. There’s a dance at midnight tonight. That might be interesting, I’ll have to ask the boyfriends if we’re going… or not, because knowing them that would be a stupid question. Of course, we’re going, and they would drag me kicking and screaming if they had to! But, they won’t have to... There’s a chance that Marco will be there. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought.

 

As I continue scanning the page before me my eyes land on something else that is quite interesting. Bishounen Auction. _Auction._ I read further, one sentence standing out in particular:

 

_“Come join us and our lovely Bishounen in a talent show and auction extravaganza, where you can bid for a chance to win a date with the Bishounen of your dreams!”_

Fucking Jesus! Seriously? _Seriously?_

I don’t know if I should be disgusted or fascinated.

 

My body goes with the third option; turned on.

 

Great. Thank you, stupid hormones, for humiliating me.

 

Then, I realize that if Marco’s going to be at the dance he’ll be there with whoever buys him. That kills the mood instantly.

 

Also, Marco’s not an item. You can’t just buy him! An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach and follows me around for the rest of the day, up until we are lining up for the auction event. I don’t know if I really want to be here.

 

The auction starts out much like Bingo, the MC introducing himself before all of the Bishounen parade across the stage. My eyes settle on Marco when he appears, never leaving him until he disappears back stage.

 

He’s dressed differently from yesterday. He still has his eye-patch and leather jacket (although, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his well-muscled forearms), but he’s not wearing a shirt underneath. Instead, there is some harness looking-thing, leather straps crossing over sections of his body and pulled snug against his skin. And his pants – _what fucking pants?_ His lower half is bare save for a tight pair of booty shorts. The boots he’s wearing also seem to be the same from yesterday, but I can barely get passed the shorts. I’m surprised my brain hasn’t malfunctioned yet.

 

The Bishounen show off their talents – singing, dancing, anything really. Most of the Bishounen begin removing articles of clothing as the bidding on them ensues, a way to entice the audience to bid more. A tip line forms in front of the stage for most of the Bishounen, many of them walking off stage with tons of singles and fives tucked into their underwear, pants, or wherever they can stick the money, really.

 

With each Bishounen that leaves the stage I get more and more anxious. I want to see Marco, yet at the same time I don’t.

 

Marco is one of the last Bishounen to take the stage. The music that starts blaring from the speakers is dark and heavy, and Marco’s body writhes in sync with it perfectly. I remember that he goes to the Academy, and now I know why. The boy can fucking dance, moving his body like no other. The stretch of his bare, tanned, freckled skin over taut muscles forces me to bite back a groan, my pants quickly becoming uncomfortably tight.

 

Marco has a long red flag with him to use as a prop, but honestly he doesn’t need it (even if the way that the cloth wraps around his body is rather sensual).

 

I want him. I want Marco badly. I want to touch him. I _need_ to touch him.

 

There’s already a line forming for tips, and once his performance is over Marco saunters over to the edge of the stage, allowing people to tuck singles beneath the various leather straps that adorn his body. The bidding picks up quickly, but I ignore it. I can’t stop my body from rising and entering the tip line. All I have are twenties, but with the performance Marco just gave he deserves it. Fuck, he deserves much more.

 

I note, as there are only a couple more people separating me and Marco, that the bidding has gotten to an insanely high number. Much more than I could ever afford… not that I was ever entertaining the thought of buying Marco… Really. _Honestly._

 

It’s my turn to walk up to the stage, Marco’s eye locking with my own. His smile seems to grow darker, more sinister, sexier, if that’s even possible. “Hey there, stranger” he whispers, his voice so quiet that I can barely hear it over the pounding of the music, even though we’re rather close. I hold the folded bill between two fingers before reaching towards one of the leather straps adorning his thigh. I’m so close. So close, and then he pulls away… but only about an inch. My gaze snaps up to catch his once more, I’m sure the confusion is showing in my eyes, which only causes his grin to grow.

 

“I’ve got a special strap for you, baby.”

 

 _Baby._ Oh, shit. If I wasn’t hard before, I certainly am now.

 

Marco’s fingers trail down his exposed skin and over the various straps embellishing his body before stopping at the hem of his booty shorts. I can’t stop the whimper that escapes me as his long fingers dip into his shorts, my body radiating with heat and my knees shaking. Slowly his freckled digits reemerge from the band of his shorts, hooked around – _oh my fucking God!_

The elastic strap of the red, lacy thong that Marco’s exposed snaps back against his skin as he lets it go. He shifts closer to me, the red lace now easily within my reach, his gaze smoldering.

 

It takes everything I have to not, you know, _faint._ (Or jump up onto the stage and fuck him senseless. Seriously, what the fuck was he thinking?)

 

My hand shakes terribly as I reach out, slipping the twenty beneath the lacy fabric of the thong. I take a second to run my fingers along the edge of the panties, Marco’s skin soft against my touch, before drawing my hand back. “Mmm, thanks hon” he purrs sensually, tucking the thong strap back into his shorts, money and all. No one else gets to slip their tips _there._ Marco reserved that right for me. I feel ecstatic, knowing this…

 

And lightheaded, but that’s probably because all of my blood has rushed south.

 

I wobble unsteadily back to my seat.

 

The winning bid for Marco is two thousand and five hundred dollars, making him the second-most earner of the night. It’s actually a couple that purchases Marco, two girls, one tall with dark skin and hair, and the other a small, petite blond. I don’t even try to fight the jealousy that boils within me as Marco appears next to them minutes later, spending the rest of the event by their side.

 

I don’t want to go to the dance anymore. I don’t want to see Marco with them. Or with anyone, actually.

 

 _Jesus._ When did I become so possessive?

 

The auction ends at eleven, the dance starts at twelve, so the boyfriends and I have an hour to get ready. We head back to our room, my sour attitude putting a damper on the mood… I actually do feel a little bit guilty about that.

 

By the time we make it back downstairs the dance is in full swing, music blaring and bodies writhing to the beat. There are a few people, awkwardly standing around or sitting in a few of the seats scattered about the room, but mostly everyone is one the dance floor.

 

Including Marco and his ‘owners’. I fight the urge to vomit as the word pops into my mind.

 

Reiner drags Bertholdt onto the dance floor almost immediately, and I find myself included amongst the group of ‘awkwards’, my hands tucked into pockets as I watch the bodies on the dance floor sway and jump to the pulse of the beat.

 

My eyes drift to Marco and the two girls every few minutes, Marco’s dancing more upbeat and happy as he jumps around, a complete contrast from the way his body moved earlier in the night. But about ten minutes after my arrival the trio stops dancing. They’re chatting away, but they’re across the room from me, so even without the blaring music I wouldn’t have been able to hear them. The two girls talk animated for a moment, but Marco’s expression is what strikes me as odd.

 

Worry. 

 

He’s unsure about something. My mind jumps, the girls are trying to convince him to do something he doesn’t want to do… maybe? He looks nervous, but he’s smiling shyly. If I weren’t so frustrated over the whole situation I’d call the expression adorable on him.

 

The next thing I know the taller of the two girls grabs Marco’s arm and starts dragging him across the room, the petite blond following behind. This gets my blood pumping, how dare they treat Marco like that! Like he’s some sort of item that they can do anything they want with! Like he’s…

 

Oh wait, they’re headed straight for me, and the dark haired girl actually looks… a little pissed? Shit, should I run?

 

Too late.

 

The girl stops right before me, her glare piercing. I feel like Bertl, sweating heavily under her stare, but my eyes never leave her face. I’m not a coward. I’m not a coward. I’m _not._ I won’t run away.

 

Honestly, the longer my gaze is fixed on her face the more I realize how _familiar_ she looks. Tanned skin smattered in freckles, dark eyes, dark hair…

 

And then before I can react she’s shoving Marco at me. “Ymir!” he yelps as he lands heavily against my chest, but I manage to stay upright, my arms wrapping around Marco protectively.

 

“Calypso, I release you from your human bonds! Or however the fuck that shit goes” the girl, Ymir I guess, says in a fed up tone, throwing her arms into the air in an exasperated manner, the petit blond behind her giggling happily.

 

I am so confused.

 

“Have fun, Marco” the blond says as she latches on to the taller girl’s arm.

 

“Yeah, enjoy yourself you fucking loser!” Ymir barks in laughter.

 

“Takes one to know one, bitch!” Marco bites right back, but their banter is playful.

 

Okay, now I’m _really_ confused, but Marco’s still leaning against me, my arms tightening around him.

 

“Oh hush, you two” the blond butts in, “Ymir, didn’t you say you were going to dance with me until I couldn’t walk anymore?” she continues, her voice soft and nearly inaudible as she begins pulling the larger woman away.

 

My gaze follows the two until they disappear into the crowd before landing on Marco once again. He’s smiling at me, shyly, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Hey there, stranger” I don’t even know what to say, I am so fucking bewildered. My confusion must show, because Marco’s quick to explain. “Ymir, my cousin, and her girlfriend Christa.”

 

Oh. 

 

“Christa’s got more money than she could use in an entire lifetime, so I, uh… guess she decided to buy me?” He honestly seems confused, himself. “I knew they’d be here, but, well… I wasn’t expecting her to bid on me. I guess that was a happy surprise,” the shy quirk of his lips shifts into something more sly as he continues to talk, his hips beginning to sway, gyrating with the beat of the music against my own. “So, Jean… want to dance?”

 

This time, however, my brain decides to work perfectly. “Yeah,” I say, a smirk gracing my own features as he tugs on my arm, dragging me to the dance floor. We squeeze between the throng of sweaty, writhing bodies, Marco’s grip never leaving my arm. When he stops suddenly I run right into his back.

 

“S-sor—” I start to step back, but Marco tugs me back against him, his body grinding against mine. _Oh, Jesus Lord!_ My breath hitches and my hands fly to his hips once he lets go of my arm in order to run his hands behind my neck and into the short hairs of my undercut.

 

The way his body moves against mine sets me on fire, my breath coming out in harsh puffs against the side of his face. My hips grind in tangent with his own of their own volition, his ass pressing back against my crotch. I can’t believe this is happening. My hands start to roam from his hips, over his thighs before rising to splay across his bare abs.

 

Marco tilts his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to me. I take the obvious invitation without a moment of hesitation, littering his freckled skin with light kisses. The soft, pleasured hum Marco lets out spurs my hands back into motion, intent on coercing more of those adorable sounds out of him.

 

My hands roam over his chest, lingering on the leather strap stretched across it before lightly ghosting over his nipples. The sound of his sharp intake of breath sending a jolt of pleasure right to my loins. I’m hard, and I know he can feel my arousal against him with the way he leans back into me.

 

My hands continue their trek south, trailing over the taut muscles of his stomach before heading lower, finally landing on his hips where my fingers lazily tease the hem of his shorts. When my hand accidentally brushes the bulge stretching the front of his shorts I am rewarded with a delicious gasp that has my hips involuntarily thrusting forward.

 

_Dear lord, what is this kid doing to me?_

The next thing I know Marco’s turning around in my arms, grinding our crotches together for a brief moment before grabbing my arm and dragging me through the crowd of writhing bodies once again. My brain is in such a haze that we’re in a deserted corner of the room before I even realize it, Marco pushing me into one of the many chairs that litter the unoccupied area.

 

“Want a lap dance?” he purrs, his breath ghosting over my ear wracking my body with shivers.

 

Does he even have to ask?

 

I open my mouth to say _Hell Fucking Yes_ but the words are stuck in my throat. I fail to even make a peep, but luckily it seems Marco doesn’t care what my answer is either way. He settles his weight into my lap, his hands on my knees to help him balance as he presses his tightly clothed ass onto my crotch.

 

I don’t bother to even attempt to stop the breathy moan that escapes me, my hands unconsciously landing on his hips once more. As my hands slowly slide from Marco’s hips to his thighs he presses against my arousal in a particularly hard thrust. I almost miss the moan that escapes him, the beat of the music nearly drowning it out.

 

This is getting a little out of control, I realize, and I really don’t care. Marco shifts in my lap, turning around to straddle me. My eyes lock with his single uncovered one, and I find myself wishing that he wasn’t wearing colored contacts. It’s not that the red isn’t alluring, but I would much rather prefer being able to see his dark eyes hazy and blown with pleasure.

 

Marco wraps his fingers into my hair once more, leaning solidly against me before grinding his crotch into mine. He breathes heavily into my ear before repeating the motion. “Ahn!” This time the moan he lets out is incredibly loud to my ears, drowning out the music pulsing around us. My hips snap into action against his, one of my hands sneaking under his cropped leather jacket to rest between his shoulder blades while the other lands on his firm behind.

 

“J-Jean!” he moans, his forehead falling to rest on my shoulder. Marco’s body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat due to the heat and exertion of our bodies. His musky scent hits me like a ton of bricks, causing me to groan into his ear. Our movements hasten against each other, my hands pressing him further into me.

 

“Hng… God, M-Marco” it comes out as a husky growl and I can both feel and hear his gasp at the sound of my voice. I remove my hand from his ass and use it to pull his leather jacket away from his neck and shoulder instead, exposing his tanned skin for my lips to roam across. Marco pants heavily against me, his movements becoming more urgent with my added ministrations.

 

When my lips land on the junction between his neck and shoulders I begin to tease his skin with my tongue. Marco’s hands move from my hair to grab at my shoulders, soft mewls escaping his parted lips. “Jean… I-I’m—ngh… close.”

 

_Oh._

Oh my God.

 

I lose myself in the body writhing in my lap, my lips wrapping around the freckled skin at the junction of Marco’s neck and shoulder and sucking, working on marring his flawless skin with a pretty bruise. This sends the other boy over the edge, his arms tightening around me and his hips stuttering erratically. “Ah! Ngh…” Marco moans deeply into my ear, my own orgasm washing over me. My teeth sink into his skin on reflex, causing Marco to moan loudly and his hips thrust harshly into my own as he rides out the pleasure coursing through his veins.

 

We sit there in the dark, unoccupied corner of the main hall, music still blaring around us and the dance still going strong as we come down from our endorphin fueled highs. Marco pulls his head from my shoulder, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. The post-orgasm haze begins to clear from my head as the gravity of our actions weighs heavily on my shoulders.

 

My gaze locks with Marco’s, my expression probably somewhere between fucked out and panic, but the costumed boy just smirks down at me lazily before resting our foreheads together. Slowly he leans forward, pressing our lips together in a chaste kiss before pulling away and resting his head on my shoulder once again, his body curling as close to mine as possible. My worries instantly vanish.

 

“’m sorry” I hear him yawn tiredly. “I made a mess,” we both did, if the wet cooling sensation settling over my crotch is anything to go by. My gaze settles between us, realizing Marco’s shorts are much worse off than my pants. I sigh, wrapping my arms around his body and holding him close.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

A few minutes of silence pass between us and I almost think that Marco’s fallen asleep. I almost nod off myself, but my eyes snap open when I feel Marco begin to stir in my lap.

 

He pulls away from me, leaning back slightly. “I’d better get going” he finally says through a yawn, one hand rising to cover his mouth. Disappointment washes over me before his voice caresses me ear. When had he leaned forward again? “I can probably make it to my room without being seen. Everyone’s either here or asleep. I’d rather not be seen in my come-stained shorts.”

 

Makes sense, I guess.

 

Marco’s finger hooks under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His other hand lands lightly against my cheek as he leans forward again, pressing our lips together. This kiss is decidedly less chaste than the last. In fact, it’s anything but chaste as his tongue darts out across my lips, causing me to gasp. He takes the opportunity presented to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deep and twisting with my own. I can’t believe it when my dick twitches in arousal again. _After all that?_

Okay, maybe I _can_ believe it. Marco’s fucking sexy as hell.

 

When he finally pulls back a string of saliva connects us, it snaps as his lips quirk into a smug smirk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

 

I nod in response, unable to speak.

 

“Good. I can’t wait” He gives one last teasing thrust of his hips before sliding off of my lap. My eyes are trained on his ass as he literally sashays out of the main hall, avoiding the writhing mass of dancing bodies as he heads for the door.

 

After he disappears I take a few minutes to cool down before following, leaving the main hall and heading up to the room for the night.

 

Later that morning (since it’s nearly two a.m. when I make it back to our room), Reiner and Bertholdt drag me out to _more_ panels. My brain is elsewhere, however, focused on the events of last night—err, earlier that morning? I don’t even fucking know, my brain is so fucked up.

 

Around a quarter after two the three of us line up to wait for the closing ceremonies to begin.

 

“Oh, yeah!” Bertl perks before digging into his bag. He pulls out a long strip of red raffle tickets, handing them to me. “We got these for you. There’s going to be a raffle, maybe you’ll win _something._ ”

 

“Yeah, _something,_ ” Reiner sniggers behind his hand, but I take the tickets with a roll of my eyes. Whatever.

 

The Closing Ceremonies start out like most of the other main events, the MC introduces himself and thanks all of us for spending the weekend with them, yadda-fucking-yadda. Then he goes into explaining the rules for the event.

 

 _Rules?_ I thought these were the _Closing Ceremonies_. Why are there rules?

 

I turn in my seat to ask Reiner and Bertl, but their gazes are glued to the stage, the creepy grin gracing Reiner’s expression makes me thing that it’s better _not_ to ask.

 

“If you didn’t know,” the MC starts, “this is our lovely raffle event!” he holds a large bag up, shaking it. I can hear all of the small scraps of paper rustling together. “Throughout the entire weekend you guys have been purchasing raffle tickets, and now we’ll find out who wins!” He places the bag down on the stage. “Now, for the best part, the prizes!”

 

It’s like Bingo, sort of. “If you have a winning ticket I want you to make yourself known! Scream, jump in place, dance, I don’t fucking care, just make sure we can see and hear you. Shouting ‘Hell yeah, motherfucker!’ is an effective way of doing this, if you want!”

 

“If you win,” the MC continues, “make your way up to the stage and bring your ticket so that we can verify that you’ve won. When you get up here, three of our lovely Bishounen will be waiting for you. Each of them will have a small beaker with a ticket in it. Take the ticket from the Bishounen of your choosing. The ticket will have a number on it, and that number will correspond to a prize!”

 

Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.

 

“And for the second part of the prize, you may either give the Bishounen you choose an innocent, loving, hug…” the MC holds his arms out, imitating a hug, “Or…” he pulls a chair onto the middle of the stage from where it had been sitting on the side. “If you believe your Bishounen deserves it, you may bend them over and give them a good spank!”

 

_EXCUSE-THE-FUCK-ME?_

What? _What the fuck?_

 

“And speaking of our lovely Bishounen, here they are!” the MC moves to the side of the stage before the Bishounen begin to parade across it, much like they had the previous night.

 

My brain is still trying to get over the fact that we can _spank the Bishounen_ if we win.

 

Well, this will be… interesting. My gaze roves over the passing Bishounen, searching for one in particular, and—

 

If my brain had been having problems processing the fact that we can _spank the Bishounen_ if we win, it completely stops functioning the second that Marco steps on stage and I spot what he’s wearing.

 

The eye-patch is a given by now, I guess, but _holy what the fuck!?_ A cropped vest clings tightly to Marco’s chest, his tanned, freckled, well-muscled arms completely exposed, as are his abs. He’s wearing another pair of booty shorts, possibly even tighter than the ones from before. He turns as he continues to make his way across the stage, his backside facing the audience briefly. The frilly white cursive _‘Spank Me’_ stitched into the material stretched across his firm ass nearly makes me groan. The thigh-high see-through leggings mold to the curves of his muscles perfectly, and tucked into the lacy elastic band of each legging are what seem to be two black wooden floggers. They both have different words carved into them, painted red, but the words are obstructed by the lace.

 

And the finishing touch to the ensemble? Six-inch silver heels that sparkle under the stage lights.

 

 _Freckled-Fucking-Jesus!_ How can he walk in those? But he can, oh he can. He struts across the stage as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, before disappearing behind stage once again.

 

My pants are uncomfortably tight.

 

My mind is a blur as the event continues on, my brain failing to process anything.

 

Numbers are being called, but I fail to check any of my tickets. My attention quickly snaps to Marco whenever he saunters onto the stage, at one point the MC even asks him what his paddles say.

 

He pulls them out of his leggings, holding one out for the audience to see, “Bitch” he sticks that one away before holding out the other one, “and Slut.”

 

Jesus, Marco. What are you doing to me?

 

I grit my teeth whenever Marco’s chosen to be spanked, my hands curling into fists as jealousy bubbles within me. _I should be the only one to touch him like that._

Wait, what?

 

My brain falls into a haze once more.

 

More numbers are being called.

 

“Hey, that’s only a couple numbers higher than mine… I think that number's in our strain” I hear Bertholdt say, but my mind doesn’t register his words.

 

“Hmm, I don’t have it” Reiner grumps.

 

“Going once!” the MC

 

“Maybe Jean has it?” Reiner’s pulling the tickets from my hands, quickly checking over the numbers.

 

“Going twice!”

 

Reiner grabs my arm, jumping from his seat and pulling me out of mine. “HELL YEAH MOTHERFUCKER” he bellows, holding my arm up in victory.

 

Oh. I guess I won?

 

My gaze drifts to the three Bishounen standing just off the stage, holding beakers and getting ready to line up for me. Marco’s not one of them, but he’s standing there talking animatedly to the tiny blond elf. Reiner pushes me along, handing me my ticket. I’m surprised I don’t trip over my own feet as I make my way up to the stage, my eyes glued to Marco and the elf in the corner. The elf’s smiling smugly, the expression odd on his boyish features… and then he’s discreetly sliding his beaker into Marco’s hands.

 

_Oh Jesus!_

And then I’m on the stage, shakily handing the MC my ticket. He nods, verifying the number, and the three Bishounen parade onto the stage, each one striking a salacious pose as they hold out their beakers for me to choose from. The other two don’t even register, my eyes are for Marco only. My hands are still shaking as a pull the ticket from his beaker, handing it to the MC to read my prize. The other two Bishounen march off the stage, but Marco stays, smiling at me suggestively.

 

He reaches out, resting his hand lightly on my chest. “I’ve been a naught boy” he purrs, leaning closer to me. “Will you punish me?”

 

My breath catches in my throat and all I can do is nod dumbly.

 

“Well, then” the MC says from beside me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Apparently he’d heard every word of our exchange. “Since you seem so intent on being punished, Darco, why not let your friend use one of those floggers you’ve got there?”

 

The crowd roars with excitement, I want to run and hide.

 

“Oh!” Marco perks up, his hand automatically going for one of the paddles. “That’s a good idea!”

 

_No. It is not a good idea, Marco!_

But I can’t find my voice. Marco pulls the paddle from his leggings, handing it to me, the word _‘Slut’_ carved into the wood. It’s not as heavy as I thought, realizing that it’s really just a prop. That makes me feel slightly better, I guess.

 

Marco walks over to the chair, bending over and presenting his ass to me. I gulp, slowly taking position behind him. “You know,” the MC cuts in again, “I bet if you spank him hard enough you could get the word to imprint on his skin.”

 

I barely hear Marco’s excited moan over the roar of the crowd. _Jesus!_

Marco reaches back, pulling at the bottom hem of his shorts and hiking them up, exposing a portion of his firm ass.

 

 _Oh. My. God._ He’s even got freckles _there._ How fucking adorable.

 

And then I remember that he wants me to spank him hard enough to leave a mark.

 

Well, here goes nothing.

 

I pull my arm back, take aim, and strike with a resounding snap. The sharp cry of pleasure that escapes Marco’s parted lips goes straight to my cock. I pray to whatever God is out there that I don’t get hard on stage. That would be mortifying.

 

I hesitantly pull the paddle away from Marco’s skin, the faint outline of a backwards _‘Slut’_ imprinted onto his ass.

 

A feeling of satisfaction washes over me, surprising me. I never thought I’d be into something like _that._ Fuck, I’m a lot kinkier than I thought!

 

Marco slowly straightens up, standing so that his back faces the audience. The crowd is cheering, I guess even they can see the mark I’ve left. Speaking of marks, my eyes flicker to Marco’s shoulder, searching for the hickey I’m sure I left earlier. It’s there, peeking out from the hem of his vest. It looks like there’s a layer of makeup covering it, it’s barely visible. I feel even more satisfied.

 

Marco reaches back again, adjusting his shorts back into their proper place with a snap. My gaze lands on his freckled face to find it incredibly flushed, his other hand covering his mouth in shock. I blink, confused, before I notice the rather large bulge tenting his tiny shorts.

 

Oh. _Ooh._

Well, that’s a good reason to refuse to face the audience.

 

My body reacts to his, because _I_ did that to him. _I’m_ the one who turned him on like that.

 

Marco isn’t the only one who ends up leaving the stage with a raging hard on.

 

Mortifying doesn’t even begin to cover the feeling as I take the walk of shame back to my seat. Reiner’s booming laughter is not appreciated one bit.

 

The rest of the event passes by in a blur. Marco doesn’t reappear on stage either. Before I know it the MC is saying his goodbyes and the hall is starting to clear out. I’m in such a daze that most of the occupants of the Hall have left before Bertholdt and Reiner manage catch my attention, snapping me out of my stupor.

 

“Earth to space cadet!” Reiner barks in my ear, nearly deafening me.

 

I pin him with my most worthy glare, and yet again he doesn’t even flinch. “We’ll meet up with you later” Bertholdt’s words catch me off guard, filling me with confusion. My expression must say everything, because Reiner tilts his head in a signal for me to turn around.

 

I do.

 

Marco’s there, one hand nervously playing with the hem of his vest.

 

 

I give Bertholdt and Reiner a nod before standing and taking the few strides until I am standing right in front of Marco.

 

“Hey there, stranger” he says, but his voice and bearing are not as confident as they had been previously.

 

“Hey” I respond, not sure what else I should say.

 

A few silent moments pass between us awkwardly, and I begin to fidget. Luckily, Marco speaks up. “So, you heading back home?”

 

My gaze catches his and I shake my head in the negative, he seems surprised. “Not yet. We leave tomorrow,” I flick a thumb over my shoulder, “those two wanted to do some sightseeing before we headed back. You know, see the Wall and shit.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah…” A pause, but I don’t want our conversation to die so I push on. “How about you?”

 

“I don’t leave until tomorrow either.”

 

…

 

Well, then.

 

“Soo…” But, before I can say anything else Marco’s leaning forward, placing a chaste kiss on my lips. The heels make him so much taller than me, I stand on my toes so that he doesn’t have to lean down so far as well as to deepen the kiss.

 

“Sixth floor” I murmur against his lips as I pull back slightly, his lips chasing after mine, not wanting the contact to end.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“My room’s on the sixth floor.”

 

He places one last kiss on my lips before grabbing my hand, pulling me out of the main hall and towards the elevators.

 

The second that the elevator doors slide close behind us, Marco’s on me, arms wrapped around my waist and lips pressing hard against my own.

 

“Mmph!” my surprise is muffled by his insistent lips. Before I even realize what’s happening Marco has his hand down the front of my pants, his teeth tugging at my bottom lip with a growl. He ruts against my hip as he gropes my quickly hardening cock through my boxers.

 

_What have I gotten myself into?_

 

The elevator dings and slides open, Marco pulling me along as he heads into the hall. I can barely keep upright, my knees wobbly. “Room?”

 

“Uh… room” think, Jean, think! This is important. Of course, the only head that’s thinking coherently is the one downstairs (I can practically hear the chanting of  _sex, sex, sex!_ ). “Sixty eighty-two… I think?”

 

Marco sends me a saucy smirk before tugging me along down the hall until we reach the room. I fumble, searching my pockets for the card key, Marco pressing against my back, his hands on my hips.

 

_Found it!_

And I nearly drop the card as Marco begins grinding his hard cock into my ass. _Holy shit!_

I pray that Bertl and Reiner aren’t in as I slide the card into the reader, the little green light blipping and signaling that the door’s been unlocked. I pull Marco into the room, slamming him against the door as it closes behind us. My lips find his in a fierce kiss, our teeth clanking together before his tongue delves into my mouth forcefully. Our tongues twine together, Marco’s hands landing on my ass and pulling my hips towards his own as he grinds our arousals together.

 

“Mmph... b-bed” I pant out as we pull away for a breath. He nods, pushing me until the back of my knees hits one of the beds and I’m forced to sit, Marco sliding over me to straddle my lap. Thankfully the bed we land on is indeed mine.

 

My lips latch onto Marco’s exposed neck, sucking as he fiddles with the straps of his heels. I hear two _thunks!_ as his shoes hit the floor before he pushes me back against the bed, his lips finding mine once again. Marco’s hands find the hem of my shirt and begins to pull it up over my head, our lips parting ways so that he can get the garment fully off of me.

 

My hands shoot to his freckled cheeks, fingers sliding under the tiny elastic straps of his eye-patch before sliding the thing off. His revealed eye is dark and clouded with lust, the pupil blown wide. The sight causes my breath to catch.

 

Marco leans back, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons on his vest before he slides it off his shoulders. I lean back and watch as Marco trails his hands down his chest, he gasps loudly as he flicks his own nipples before his hands travel lower and lower. His hands ghost over his hips to his thighs, landing on the paddles tucked securely in his leggings. He pulls them loose, tossing them to the floor, his fingers playing with the lace against his legs.

 

I can’t take it anymore.

 

I flip our positions, catching Marco off guard. I swallow his gasp with a deep kiss before blazing a wet trail of kisses from his chest to his hips, only stopping to give each of his nipples a soft suck which has him moaning and writhing against the mussed sheets. He growls in frustration as I purposefully ignore the bulge his tight shorts, stretched to their limit.

 

My hands run down his smooth thighs until my fingers dip into the lacey hem of one of his leggings. I shuffle back on the bed, my hands running over his thighs one more time before I dip forward, my lips landing right below the junction of his leg and groin. “Jean!” his voice his pleading as I litter the skin there with tiny love-bites, my fingers working off one of the leggings. I repeat the ministrations on his other leg, by the time I’m done Marco’s tugging at my hair in frustration.

 

When I lave my tongue over the growing wet spot forming on his shorts Marco keens, his hips bucking of their own accord. My gaze flickers up to his face, singling in on his flushed cheeks and bi-colored eyes. “S-sorry” he apologizes, thoroughly embarrassed. I simply shake my head with a chuckle before placing a kiss to the head of his cock, which leaves him whimpering.

 

But when I pull back again he growls ferociously, catching me by surprise. His legs wrap around my torso and in a show of strength he swiftly flips our positions again. Marco’s hands fly right to my belt, quickly unfastening it and tearing it from the loops of my jeans.

 

He’s getting impatient.

 

I don’t mind.

 

He undoes my pants, pulling both my jeans and boxers off in one fell swoop, my hard cock bouncing back against my stomach, a bead of precome pooling at the slit. Marco dives forward without warning, running his tongue from base to tip before swirling it around the head. I half-moan half-scream at the action, not something I was expecting at all, my fingers twining in Marco’s dark locks. He wraps his lips around the head of my cock, slowly bobbing his head, his hand pumping what he can’t take in.

 

“M-Marco!” my hips twitch and Marco grabs them to keep me from thrusting into his warm, slick mouth. A needy whimper escapes me, and I realize this is payback for my earlier teasing. Fuck!

 

Marco gives me one last suck that leaves me gasping before pulling off my dick with a wet pop, his lips set in a smug smile.

 

He literally crawls up my body and initiates another deep kiss, his hands running up my sides and over my shoulders before running down my arms and landing on my wrists.

 

And before I know what’s happened Marco has my arms held above my body, both of my wrists held snug in one of his hands while his other hand is searching the bed for something.

 

“Aha!” he hums in contentment as he finds whatever he’s looking for. He holds up my belt like it’s some sort of prize and I gulp. He leans forward, kissing me again before mumbling “Is this okay?” against my lips.

 

Well, at least he asked.

 

Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s okay, but I nod anyways. Marco securely fastens the belt over my wrists, binding them together before tying them to the headboard.

 

And that’s when I realize I’ve forgotten something incredibly important.

 

“I-I don’t have lube or condoms” I blurt unthinkingly, and Marco looks at me surprised before he starts chuckling and shaking his head.

 

In my opinion, this is not funny at all!

 

My pout just makes him laugh even more. “Where’s your grab bag?”

 

_My what now?_

He must see my confusion because he’s quick to explain. “When you picked up your badge they gave you a bag with a schedule and some other stuff in it.”

 

Oh yeah.

 

I don’t know why Marco wants the bag, but whatever. “On the desk,” I tilt my head in the direction of the table. Marco slides off of me and saunters over to the table, my eyes glued to his ass. He peeks into the bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling something out.

 

It looks like a condom and a small tube of lube.

 

What the fuck?

 

“You didn’t look through the bag when you got it?” He asks smugly.

 

“Uh… no.”

 

I honestly hadn’t been interested…

 

Well, at least the convention is promoting safe sex, I guess.

 

Marco crawls back into the bed with his new acquisitions, straddling my hips again. He swoops down, catching me off guard, and litters my collarbones with soft kisses. He gives my dick a couple of pumps, causing me to buck into his hand before he pulls away completely. I groan, trying to follow him, forgetting that my arms are tied to the headboard. “Marco…” I plead, my hips twitching underneath him.

 

He tuts and shakes his finger at me before his hands find the hem of his shorts. Slowly he slides the tight material from his legs, his aroused cock bouncing against his taut stomach as it pops free, dripping with precome. He slips the shorts from his legs completely, flinging them off the bed.

 

Marco leans forward again, his lips crashing with mine in an aggressive kiss. I find myself wishing I could wrap his arms around him, and almost ask him to untie me.

 

And that’s when I hear the pop of the bottle of lube snapping open. Marco pulls away, my lips chasing after him, wanting to keep the contact. I watch as he drizzles a generous amount of lube on his fingers, my eyes going wide in surprise as he reaches behind himself.

 

And then he gasps.

 

I groan loudly, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight before me because _oh my God!_ Marco’s fingering himself.

 

For me.

 

He’s opening himself up for _me._

 

“M-Marco” I gasp, my hips bucking into the air involuntarily at the sight. “Marco. Marco… Fuck, Marco!”

 

I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

 

“Jean!” He gasps, precome dripping from his slit onto my stomach. “Ah!” Marco moans loudly, pitching forward and resting his weight on his free forearm. His breaths come in heavy pants, puffing warm air across my face before he connects our lips in another deep kiss. He moans loudly into the kiss, unabashed by the way he’s opening himself up for me, fucking himself on his own fingers.

 

Marco rests his forehead against my own when he pulls away, “Ready?”

 

_Ready?_

Yes I’m fucking ready! I’m so ready I’m about to burst! Honestly, I don’t even know how long I’ll last, I’m so turned on, but yes, I’m ready.

 

My words catch in my throat, all that comes out is a gurgled “Ughn.”

 

But Marco, thank _God,_ takes that for a yes. He leans back, removing his fingers from within him as he reaches for the condom. He tears the foil open easily and has to hold my hips down as he rolls the condom over me to keep me from bucking.

 

And then he’s pouring more lube into his hand before pumping my cock again, spreading the slick substance around generously. I whimper over the touch, trying to thrust into Marco's hand as he holds my hips down.

 

And then the touch is gone and Marco’s settling over me again. “I’m gonna ride you now” I groan excitedly over his words and try to keep my hips still as he grabs my cock in order to angle it towards his entrance.

 

I keen loudly, uncaring of my volume, as the blunt head of my dick presses against his entrance and then pierces through that tight ring of muscle. I can’t even be embarrassed over the loud whimpers I let loose as Marco sinks further and further onto my cock, it takes everything I have to not thrust into his tight heat, and his breathy moan as I spread him open nearly sends me over the edge.

 

Marco’s hands find purchase on my shoulders as he sinks down on me fully. “Oh, Jean” he breathes, taking a moment to adjust.

 

I need more than a moment, because I’m fucking teetering right on that edge. I’m seriously just about to come, and how embarrassing would that be?

 

Marco’s shifting his weight and I know he’s about to move. “W-wait” I whimper, barely audible.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Just… give me a moment.”

 

I don’t remember when I closed my eyes, but when I peer back up at Marco he’s got this incredibly smug smirk playing at his lips. My cheeks flare in embarrassment. I close my eyes again, tightly. I feel Marco shift again. “Jean,” his breath ghosts over my face and I feel his nose brush against mine. “Jean, baby. Look at me.”

 

Slowly my eyes open, my gaze locked on the bi-colored eyes before me. Marco’s hands snake up to my cheeks and he places a soft kiss on my nose and then my lips. Suddenly everything seems more intimate.

 

And then he’s moving, slowly lifting his hips until just the head of my cock remains inside of him before sinking back down. He lets out a shuddering moan as he repeats the action, moving agonizingly slow. I start to meet his movements with my own shallow thrusts, praying that I don’t blow my load too soon.

 

“Ah!” Marco pulls back, his hands sliding against my skin to rest on my chest. His back arches in the most enticing way and I don’t expect it when he slams against me, forcing my cock deep with his thrust. My eyes cross at the sensation, my hips bucking into him uncontrollably.

 

“M-Marco!” I yelp in surprise, my arms pulling at their restraints. Marco continues to bounce in my lap, heady moans falling from his parting lips.

 

The sight sends me into a frenzy.

 

I want to touch him.

 

“M-Marco…” I breathe, fighting to get the words out. “Please. Please untie me.”

 

He shakes his head, denying my request, and I nearly sob.

 

“Jean” he moans, throwing his head back, “h-harder! Ughn… more!”

 

I don’t have what it takes to deny him, my hips bucking into him with as much force as I can muster. His moans turn into screams of pleasure as he thrusts back onto me. “Jean!” he wails when I change the angle of my thrusts slightly. “Oh fuck! Right there! Right… Oh, fuckfuckfuck!”

 

The sight of Marco coming undone above me sends a shiver down my spine, I can’t tear my eyes from his form.

 

“Jean! Jean! Jean!” the way he chants my name with every thrust sends me reeling, my thrusts becoming more erratic with every passing second.

 

“C-close” I grunt out, accompanied by a particularly hard thrust.

 

“Don’t stop!” Marco keens, slamming back against me. I wouldn’t dream of stopping. Not now, not ever. “Oh! Nngh,” I watch as Marco’s eyes roll back in pleasure as he rides me into release, the sight alone almost enough to send me over the edge that I’ve been teetering on for the longest time now. “I-I’m… I’m com—Jean! JEAN!” Marco slams against me one last time, his orgasm hitting him hard as he comes, untouched, his seed coating both of our stomachs. The way his walls clench around me is the last straw that finally sends me hurtling over the edge, I thrust erratically into his tight, pulsing heat as we ride out our orgasms together.

 

As our hips stutter to a halt Marco falls against my chest, breathing heavily. A second later he’s reaching up and untying me from the bedpost. I immediately wrap my arms around him, turning us over so we’re both on our sides. I pull out of him carefully, quickly tying the condom and dumping it in the bin next to the bed. Marco throws his arm over my waist and tangles our legs together before leaning in for a kiss. The kiss is slow and sloppy, but still filled with passion.

 

“Mmm” I hum, reluctantly pulling away from Marco’s lips, but the cooling stickiness coating my skin is becoming uncomfortable and I’m sure Marco feels much the same. I place one last chaste kiss on Marco’s freckled nose before pulling away completely, disentangling our limbs and sliding off the bed. Marco’s whine of disapproval almost draws me right back into bed. _Almost._

 

I’m starting to get itchy, though, so I head to the bathroom before returning to Marco with a damp washcloth to clean ourselves with.

 

“Mmm… Thanks” he hums tiredly as I run the cloth over his dirtied stomach, his body curled up on the sheets and his eyes closed. “Mm, you’re so perfect” words slurred, Marco begins shifting lazily, reaching out for me and trying to pull me back onto the bed. “Come. Cuddle.”

 

I swat his grabby hands away with a chuckle, “Jesus, hold on. I’m still a mess,” I wipe myself clean, letting the damp cloth drop to the floor and crawling back into bed. I’ll pick it up later. Marco wraps his entire body around mine, holding me close and drawing the covers over our forms.

 

_Click! THUNK!_

I barely stir, not registering the sound for what it is.

 

“Yo, Jean! You here?” Reiner’s voice booms in the small hotel room. I scramble from the bed. Or at least _try_ to, but Marco’s grip around me tightens as he holds me to his body. “Bertl and I are headed to the Wall. You com—Oh!” Reiner walks around the corner, spotting our tangled forms. “Uhhhh…”

 

“O-Oh!” Bertholdt pokes his head around the corner, “S-Sorry!” He reaches out, tugging on Reiner’s shirt, “We’ll leave you to your—yeah…”

 

Reiner gives me a thumbs up, which has me burying my flushed face in my hands, before Bertholdt manages to pull him out of the room, the door slamming behind them.

 

“I am _so_ sorry!” I whine into my hands, completely mortified once again.

 

“’s fine” Marco murmurs against my skin. “U-Uhm…” Marco shifts, burying his head between my shoulder “I-I have a confession to make, Jean” his voice is muffled against my skin. _Is that embarrassment I dectect?_

“Yeah?” I try to turn around so I can look at him, but Marco won’t let me. Fine.

 

He nods, his face not moving from its position buried between my shoulders. “I’m, uh… a bit kinky…”

 

I hold in the chuckle threatening to escape me. “A bit?” After all that’s transpired between us the past few days, this isn’t really a surprise. “I kinda figured that out alrea—Oh!” Marco pulls himself flush against my back, his arousal pressing against my ass.

 

I guess getting caught by Reiner and Bertholdt turned him on.

 

“M-Marco!” I can’t keep from moaning as he begins to thrust against me, his hands wandering a path down my body.

 

Needless to say, we end up using both of the condoms provided by the convention.

 

Late that night I’m wide awake, Marco curled against me and Reiner and Bertl snoring loudly in the other bed. I’m kept up by worry, I don’t want this thing with Marco to end here.

 

I have nothing to worry about, I quickly realize over the following days.

 

And months.

 

And years.

 

I never had anything to worry about, because the lust between Marco and I quickly shifted into something deeper the more we got to know each other. Love.

**Author's Note:**

> The End Notes section, or as I like to call it, the shameless promotion section!
> 
> So, last weekend I went to Yaoi Con, and I had one of the best times of my life. Like, seriously! I met so many unique and amazing people, and I had so much fun with my friends. And I have to say, the eye-candy was A-Freaking-Mazing.
> 
> And this was my way of sharing my little adventure with you. Of course, this is fiction, and although based on my weekend (and ycon), I took my artistic liberties. (Although I have to say a LOT of what happened in this fic actually did happen irl. Just saying.)
> 
> Also, Marco wasn't based on anyone in particular, but more of a mish-mosh of a lot of people I met and of course his Marco-ness. Yeah.
> 
> Here are some links for you!  
> [Ship Happens](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdtTfQJCO2Y)
> 
> Also, you should check these guys out (especially if you're a SoCal local), I freaking love them!  
> [Captain Savvy Singalong Crew](http://captainssavvycrew.wordpress.com/)
> 
> I am also going to do the whole selfish self-promotion thing!  
> [My tumblr](http://tiiedye.tumblr.com/)  
> Also, if you enjoyed this fic, you should check out my other ones! I currently have a cute short one-shot and I'm also working on a multi-chapter fic, both are jeanmarco.
> 
> Thank you for reading! And please, your comments feed my soul!


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